


Ghost Stories

by harmonicanoise



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Force Ghost Anakin Skywalker, Force Ghost Mace Windu, Force Ghost Obi-Wan Kenobi, Force Ghost Yoda (Star Wars), Force Ghosts, Gen, Ghosts, Jedi, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Rey Palpatine, The Force, Young Rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23561554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harmonicanoise/pseuds/harmonicanoise
Summary: An eight-year-old Rey is taught in the ways of the Force by the ghosts of the Jedi Order.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Rey, Qui-Gon Jinn & Rey, Rey & Anakin Skywalker, Rey & Mace Windu, Rey & Yoda (Star Wars)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 77





	1. The Old, the Stern, the Storyteller, and Yoda

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhat inspired by "have you heard."
> 
> There may be some light Reylo in later chapters, we'll see :)

“Come here, Rey,” the old man said. “Let me tell you a story.”

Rey scrambled eagerly onto his lap, her eyes eager and filled to the brim with the sort of glee that only exists at eight-year-olds, if it even exists at all in a being. She grinned. “Is it a fun story?” she asked.

“It’s a lesson.”

Rey’s lips curled into a pout. The old man chuckled, sweeping his fingers through her hair. “I promise I wouldn’t tell it to you if it wasn’t important,” he said idly, and gave her a friendly peck on the forehead.

She seemed to relent a little. “Alright,” she said, “But I hope it’s not scary.”

“No, not scary,” he mused, already lost in the fog of his thoughts. “Just sad.”

Rey bundled closer against him. The pulse of her heart was slow and steady against his chest, where his own beat in sync. In that moment they were warm, and calm, and safe together.

“A long, long time ago,” the old man began, “There was a boy that looked to the stars and wondered. He loved his mother, and as he grew, he found a woman that he called his wife and he loved her too. And he became very powerful, as strong emotions can strengthen a being’s ties to the Force… But child, let me tell you something you must promise never to forget -- _all those that possess power are afraid to lose it._ And he was _afraid,_ and hate burned in his heart and he swore never to let his love shrivel and die in his hands. His hate tore the galaxy to pieces, and peoples lived and died with blood in their mouths, consumed by the fear that had once sung battle-songs in the heart of one. All suffered, including himself. For love -- deep, _true_ love -- is the root of the Dark Side, my dear. The Light is cruel to take it from us, but the Light is good, and it must be served no matter the price.”

Tears splattered against the old man’s robes, and within his arms, Rey sobbed.

Later, she asked: “What happened to boy’s wife?”

The old man had smiled sadly. “She died.”

“So he never got what he was fighting for?”

“No.” His eyes misted over. “I suppose he didn’t.”

\---------------

“Look, Rey.” Yoda’s eyes scanned the sea, and behind them was serenity, as level and smooth as the endless horizon. “Look.”

Ceaseless waves spun into rock in elegant twists of stormcloud gray, roaring and snapping in joy. Rey breathed in the sharp salt air, feeling suddenly very small and very eight-years-old. She was just taller than the wizened green creature at her side, and so she stretched her hand down and found it very easy to thread her fingers into his.

Yoda was still looking forward, spellbound. “Boundless, are the waves,” he murmured. “Forever pulled by the forces around them. Forever pulled are we, as well.”

Rey still clutched at his hand. The salt was beginning to sting in her eyes, and the edge of the cliff they were standing on looked suddenly very close…

“Imagine,” Yoda was saying. “Our will in the Force, one drop of water within this, is. Tiny, our decisions are. Insignificant.”

Rey bit at her lip. She didn’t want to say anything, but fear forced her to protest, “Master Yoda, are you saying that _we_ don’t matter?”

“In the Will of the Force,” Yoda said, smiling slightly, “No.”

“But we are Jedi! We bring balance to the Force…”

“Balance, the Force always has.” Yoda closed his eyes, and Rey felt his consciousness pour into the world around them, warm and somehow kind. “More, the Dark may have. More, the Light may have also. Uneven, they might be; but together, complete, they are. Do you see, youngling?”

Rey shook her head. “No. Not at all.”

“Direct the Force, the Sith think they can. Possess it; to their will, bend it. A drop of water within a sea, they are also. Perhaps less. Do you see?”

Rey grit her teeth. She just _hated_ feeling dumb in front of Master Yoda, but she still didn’t understand. “No…”

“Control the Force, you cannot. Become it, you must. Surrender.”

“Surrender what?”

“Everything,” Yoda said simply. “There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force. Our words, these are. Greatest, the last is: nothing, there is, but the Force. Sacrifice everything else, you must.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Tears blurred at the edges of Rey’s vision. “What if I _like_ some of the things that I have? What if I like you?”

Yoda pulled his hand away from hers, settling it on his familiar gimer stick. He sighed. “Sacrificed, I must be as well, it seems, to teach this lesson.” His eyes wandered back to that endless horizon, where the sun was starting to climb its way into the sky. “With you always, I will be; for with the Force, I am, and with me, the Force is.”

“Master…” The word choked in Rey’s throat. The little green creature began to disappear before her eyes, and then there was nothing but an empty bundle of clothes at her feet. “Master!” She screamed, and it echoed a thousand times against the black rocks like knives on the shore, spinning over and over in her ears. She fell to her knees, sobbing.

A faint voice whispered to her: _Dead, I already was. Know this, did you not?_ Laughter echoed all around her, and the sound of it was sweeter than anything Rey had ever known. “I did…” she fumbled, smiling, choking on her tears, “I only forgot.”

 _With you, I will always be,_ the voice insisted once again. _Endless, the Force is; as drops in its sea, all things live. Surrender, you must, and its secrets, you will learn._

“Yes, Master.”

She thought of how gentle he had been, how wise, one of the very last Jedi--

And she let him go. She felt the waves of the Force sweep through her, and she carried her pain, her attachments away in its smooth current.

She thought she could feel Yoda smile.

\--------------

“Let me tell you a story, young one.” This was a different old man; his face was much more stern than the first, his eyes dark and cold and full of pain, and yet Rey could feel his Light in the Force, so she went and sat at his feet. She began to listen.

“A long, long time ago there was a ruler. He was evil, and yet so very, very wise. He was powerful, but he sought a greater power still. For all those that possess power--”

“--are afraid to lose it,” Rey finished, frowning. “I’ve heard this one already.”

The stern man’s jaw clenched in irritation. “Patience, youngling.”

“Sorry, Master,” Rey said sullenly.

He continued on as he had before: “For all those that possess power are afraid to lose it. There were other rulers, too, good beings that also had power and so were _afraid._ The truth was what they feared; the truth that an era was ending and another beginning, that the very core of the ruler’s kingdom was just as rotten as he was. Their judgments were poor, and the galaxy was consumed by chaos. For the ruler’s words were sweet nectar, and they filled the streets with blood.”

“I don’t like that story,” Rey complained.

“Neither did I.” His frown lessened slightly. “I was one of the good rulers, you see. I was just as blind as the rest.” He placed a hand under her chin, lifting her head so that she had to look up into his eyes. “You must not be blind, youngling. You must never possess power, and so never be afraid. A true Jedi has no possessions; perhaps you will be the first true Jedi to ever live.”

“I _do_ have power!” Rey protested. “I can make things float and read feelings and jump really high and…”

The stern man sighed. “I suppose you will not be a true Jedi, then. Not that I ever was.”

“I _am_ a true Jedi!” Rey cried, stomping her feet. “I’m a youngling and Master Skywalker says that I could be a knight soon and--”

“Skywalker is _not_ a Master.” His dark eyes glittered with what almost seemed to be amusement. “My point is… Don’t be ignorant, youngling. Realize that if you have power you will be blind.”

“I guess I’m blind then,” Rey said in a huff.

“That,” the stern man said, “Is exactly my point.”

“I hate this lesson.” Rey spun on her heel and left. His gentle laughter followed her out.

\---------------

“....And then the beast twitched, once, twice… I kept my lightsaber in a defensive position, expecting it to snatch me in its jaws… And then it flopped over. Obi-Wan made _me_ check to see if it was really dead, of course. Thankfully, it…”

A pause for dramatic effect--

“... _Wasn’t!_ ”

Rey shrieked, jumping in her seat.

“So it bit into my arm, _crrrunch_ , and I grabbed it in the Force and slammed its head against the wall. Then, when it let go I threw my lightsaber in _again_ and the foul thing finally decided to die. And that, little one, is why you never wear red around the Swamp-Beasts of Shol’lem.”

Rey giggled, clapping her hands. “Another one, another one!” she chanted. “Tell me about when you and Ahsoka went to Stevor Five.”

“Aw, really?” The storyteller’s face cocked up in a half-smile. “I told you that one last week.”

“ _Pleeease,_ ” Rey pleaded. She liked the ones with Ahsoka the best.

“You know, I _am_ supposed to be teaching you something,” he remarked. “Master Windu has already had a few things to say about my, uh, _unorthodox_ methods… Not that that’s anything new…”

“Tell me a new story, then.” Rey scooted forward until she was at the edge of her seat, her excitement growing. “Then you’ll be teaching me something.”

The storyteller frowned. “Well, what kinds of stories did the other Masters tell?”

Rey pulled a face. “They were all sad, and kind of scary.”

The storyteller’s expression grew dark. “I do know a sad story or two,” he said slowly.

“Tell it.”

He began:

“Once, a long, long time ago there was a woman who loved more strongly than anyone who had ever loved before. She came from the most beautiful planet in the entire galaxy. She was kind and smart and lovely, and she loved her people and her husband more than life itself. Her husband also loved her more than life. That was why he killed her.”

An expression of unfathomable pain crossed over his face; he hesitated, then continued on.

“His emotions were his power, and they destroyed them both. She died just as lovely and as good she had lived, with flower petals in her hair. And he was dead, too, until he found what she had left behind.”

“And what was that?” Rey asked, hesitantly.

“Her children,” the storyteller answered, and the darkness lifted from his face like rays of sunshine after a summer storm. “Her children reminded him of _true_ love, not the kind that tears galaxies apart. The kind that brings balance to the Force.”

“Master Yoda says that there is always balance in the Force. We can’t affect it, really, we just float along within it.”

The storyteller chuckled. “You would have to argue with prophecy, then,” he said. “The husband was said to be the Chosen One, destined to bring balance.”

“What about the woman?”

“She was already so much more.” The storyteller seemed, strangely, to be wiping at his eyes. He shifted in his seat, then said abruptly, “How would you like to hear a different story? Maybe one that’s a little more fun?”

Rey clapped her hands. “Yeah!” she exclaimed.

“Alright.” His voice dropped down to a dramatic hush. “It had been two weeks since we set down in the jungle, and Obi-Wan was starting to complain…”

\--------------

“What have you been telling her?” the old man asked the storyteller.

“I told her about the time you charged a rancor, the way the binary sunset glows on the sands of Tatooine, the way the spires of Coruscant twist and shine with gold, and almost absolutely everything about you and Ahsoka.” The storyteller smiled. “She loves Ahsoka. And I told her about Padme, because she asked for something sad.”

The old man frowned. “I found her crying in her sleep last night. She radiated such pain, it reminded me of you.”

“Her thoughts lie with her parents.”

“They do. And with her grandfather, perhaps.”

“We must tell her the truth.” The storyteller’s voice was firm. “She will need to know before she faces him on Exegol.”

“In a few years,” the old man agreed. “For now, let her enjoy her childhood. And it _is_ a strange one, if you think about it; a little girl has no business talking with so many ghosts.”

“An ordinary little girl, maybe,” the storyteller said, “but not Rey.”

“Have you ever thought that Rey could be an ordinary little girl _and_ a Jedi? That sometimes she becomes lost and afraid and very eight-years-old?”

“I was eight years old, once. You took me when I was nine, and you hardly spared me from the truth then.”

“Look how well that turned out.”

Their laughter echoed around them in the Force for a long, long time.


	2. The Shadow

“Hello,” said the boy.

Rey sat up in her bedroll, blinking sleep away from her eyes. “Who are you?” she asked, looking at him curiously.

“Who are you?” the boy repeated.

Each stared at the other.

“What are you doing in my bedroom?” Rey demanded sharply. “You don’t look like a ghost!”

The boy looked puzzled. “Why would I be a ghost?”

“Because this planet’s just for the Masters. And me,” she added proudly. “You must be a Master, then, too.”

“I’m only a youngling,” the boy responded, his brow furrowed. “I want to be Master Luke’s padawan someday.”

“I’ve never heard of a Master Luke.”

“You’ve never...” the boy’s eyes widened in shock. “You’ve _never_ heard of Luke Skywalker, the greatest Jedi in the galaxy? He blew up the Death Star and killed Darth Vader and defeated the evil Empire with his friends--”

“The only Skywalker I know tells me stories before bedtime,” Rey replied defiantly.

“ _I’m_ a Skywalker,” the boy insisted. “My mother was the great General Leia Organa, sister of Master Jedi Luke Skywalker, and my father was the hero Han Solo. The entire galaxy knows my name.”

“I don’t.”

The boy huffed. “It’s Ben Solo, you idiot.”

“Solo…” Rey was confused again. “Then you’re not a Skywalker, are you?”

“Am too!” the boy exclaimed. “Who are you, anyway, that you think you can say that?”

“The name’s Rey.” She stuck a hesitant hand into thin air.

Ben Solo, whoever he was, regarded it with that same hesitation. Then, after a second, they shook. His hand was solid and warm in Rey’s, unlike the strange warped-tunnel feeling she always got when she attempted to touch the Masters. His palm was as real as the rock she was standing on. This boy, whoever he was, was no ghost.

Ben Solo pulled away. “Master Luke’s calling me,” he said. “I should go.”

“It… was nice to meet you,” Rey said tentatively. “I still don’t quite know what’s going on, but... I’d like to see you again.”

He nodded very seriously for a boy his age. “Until we meet again,” he replied, and then he was gone.

Rey blinked.

What in the name of the Force had just happened?

\--------------

“Who’s Luke Skywalker?” Rey asked the old man one night.

The old man nearly choked in surprise, if ghosts could do that. Once he regained his composure, he responded, “Where did you hear that name?”

“Nowhere,” Rey lied. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. “Who is he?”

“An old student of mine,” the old man replied. He stroked the scruff of beard on his chin, the same way he always did when he was really worried about something.

“Is he Master Skywalker’s son?”

The old man thought for a moment, then said, “Yes.”

“Shouldn’t he be here then? Shouldn’t he want to see his father?”

“He does,” the old man answered. “Every day he does. More often not as a ghost, but an echo.”

“I think we should invite him here,” Rey continued, defiant. “He said that this other Skywalker was a Master, so he should be here to teach me.”

The old man lifted an eyebrow. “Who told this to you?”

“The boy in my dream!” Rey burst out, unable to stop herself. “Ben Solo.”

“You met little Ben?” the old man appeared to be baffled. “How did you ever manage to do that?”

“I wasn’t _trying,_ it just happened.”

“Hm.” He was rubbing at his chin again. “This needs to be investigated further. I will discuss your queries with the Masters. For now, let us begin our lessons.”

Rey frowned, then grabbed her training staff. She wasn't happy about it, but it would have to do.

\--------------

“She would benefit greatly if she had someone real to talk to,” the old man was telling the Masters. “We are no substitute for flesh and blood.”

“The whole point of keeping her here was to make sure she stayed hidden!” another protested. “If we invite a Skywalker-- no, _two_ Skywalkers, Force forbid, all of the galaxy will know about it.”

“And how would you know that?” the old man’s former Master asked quietly.

“The Skywalkers are always in the center of power in this galaxy; powerful people pay attention to their comings and goings, people they might not even be aware of! If it becomes known to them that Rey is here some Sith will try and take her from us. Not to mention whatever forces her grandfather has managed to muster…”

“More conjecture,” the former Master replied.

“What’s wrong with letting the galaxy know about her?” the storyteller interjected. “She is strong, and my son will take care of her. The Jedi are supposed to guard and protect the innocent; how is she supposed to do that from some rock beyond the Outer Rim?”

“She is too young,” Master Windu argued. “She will be corrupted by those that seek to use her power.”

“We cannot hide her forever.”

“Nor can we let her be turned, which _will_ happen if she leaves now.”

Silence fell. The ties of the Force between them all hummed in singular agreement.

The storyteller turned, aghast. “You can’t do this, after everything she’s done for us--”

“When she’s older, perhaps,” the former master said gently. “Stronger in the Light.”

There was a faint sound coming from behind the door. The old man went to open it, and caught a glimpse of the retreating back of Rey disappearing down the hall. She was sobbing.

\--------------

The stern man went to talk with her later.

“Once upon a time,” he said, “There was a boy, and that boy met someone that seemed kind but was secretly rotten to the core. The boy took his hand and he was consumed by the flames of the Dark Side, and the galaxy fell into chaos.”

“I don’t want to hear your stories,” Rey snapped.

He continued, a little louder: “Do you think that would have happened if the boy had been _smart_ and decided to stay home? Do you think the universe would have fallen to pieces if he had simply listened to the nagging feeling within him that told him _not_ to take that hand and plunge headfirst into his death?”

“I _told_ you I didn’t want to hear it, I _hate_ your stories--”

“You hate?” The stern man’s expression grew cold. “That is not the Jedi way. So you see, girl, you are not ready.”

Rey huffed, crossing her arms. “I want to talk to Master Skywalker.”

“For the last time, Skywalker is _not_ a Master--”

“Yeah, well, he’s a lot smarter than you! I _hate_ you!” Rey shrieked, and suddenly her vision was blurring and she was running, wiping away at her shameful tears. She would _not_ let him see them. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

\--------------

Rey ran and ran until she found herself stumbling into absolute darkness. The walls of a cave closed around her, plunging into the heart of the planet like the throat of some huge hungry beast. An utter coldness settled over her, and she shivered. 

She could sense something.

Or someone.

“Hello?” Rey said nervously.

 _Hello hello hello_ echoed the cave.

A sigh of wind pushed her hair back from her face.

“Helloo?”

_(helloo helloo helloo)_

Rey reached for her staff and drew it from the harness she thankfully still had clasped to her back from lessons. She really wished she was old enough to have a lightsaber right now. Still, she grit her teeth and continued onwards, because that thing she could sense was getting closer, and it was starting to feel _familiar._

She stopped.

Something was sitting in the shadows, watching.

It was blackness set on blackness, a dark cowl blending seamlessly into the dark, and extending from it was the pale white hand of Death. “Come here, child,” it said, like so many ghosts before it.

Rey’s grip tightened on her staff. “Who are you?”

_(are you are you are you)_

The shadow chuckled. “Do you not recognize your own destiny, girl?” His voice did not echo.

“Yes, I suppose I don’t.”

_(don’t don’t don’t the cave was warning her)_

Rey hesitated, but something within was telling her _this is another of the Masters' tests_ and _all Jedi face something they fear_ so she continued forward and did as the shadow commanded, sitting crosslegged at his feet like he was one of her ghosts. Up close she could see the shadow’s face, and it was just as pale and dead as his hands, drawn into a permanent expression of unending agony. Within their sunken depths rested the feral yellow eyes of a Sith.

“Let me tell you a story, girl. Do you like stories?”

“Sometimes.”

(she ignored the echoes)

“You will like this one,” the shadow promised. His voice was the dull scrape of bone against bone. His pale dead hand shook its way out of his robes and for the first time Rey noticed that it was blackened and burned at the fingers.

He cleared his throat the way a mighty orator would before addressing a crowd of trillions, and then, he began.

“A long, long time ago there was a bold and powerful Sith that longed for a way to cheat Death himself. And he loved more than Jedi were allowed to love, and his power was absolute and neverending.”

“And then the universe fell into chaos and he was consumed,” Rey finished, looking wonderingly up at the shadow. “I’ve heard this one before.”

_(before before before)_

“That is the way the Jedi tell it, yes, but it is not the full truth, little one. To understand the mysteries of the Force, one must study all of its aspects.” The shadow smiled. “Even through the perspective of the Dark Side…”

He paused for a moment, savoring the words. Then he continued:

“The galaxy was in chaos before, my child. Did the Jedi not tell you that? There was corruption and greed everywhere, and the bold Sith that had triumphed over Death restored order and peace to that lawless era, bringing prosperity to countless peoples. Simply because the Sith allow themselves to love the Jedi condemn them. Tell me, girl, is it wrong to love something with your whole heart?”

“It can consume you.”

_(consume you consume you consume)_

“Do you love your Masters with everything that you have?”

Rey nodded, biting at her lip.

“Then you are letting it consume you, child. According to the Jedi, you are well on your way to becoming a Sith.” The shadow let out a coarse bark of laughter. 

“You’re lying!” Rey scrambled to her feet, holding her staff in a ready position. “I’ll never become evil, I won’t, I _won’t_! I'll die first!” She readied herself for a fight--

“Kill me, child,” the shadow murmured, and that black figure shivered with want. Waves of the Dark Side pushed that desire into her, cold, wanton, and Rey couldn’t help but bare her teeth. “Strike me down and claim your destiny. Your hate makes you _powerful,_ can you feel it?” The shadow was shaking, practically salivating at the thought. “The galaxy is in chaos once again, you can give it _order…_ ”

Tears were spilling down Rey’s face, and her hatred was boiling so high and hot in her chest she thought it was going to overflow, and suddenly she was thinking _I hate you_ and her staff swung in her hands and--

“No!”

\--something solid stopped it.

Rey’s eyes widened.

“Ben?”

The little boy was there, holding her staff in his hands. “This is _my_ destiny,” he said, gritting his teeth against the downward force Rey was exerting on the staff, trying to tear it out of his hands. “It’s _my_ destiny to destroy the Sith, I’m a _Skywalker_ …”

The shadow laughed. “Yes, yes. Good, boy, I can _feel_ your anger. Use it! Strike her down!”

Rey’s hands were slick with sweat. She didn’t know if she could hold on much longer, and the Dark Side was clouding her thoughts, making it hard to concentrate. “Ben, don’t do this, can’t you see it’s what he wants…”

“Yeah, and what about what I want?” With one final pull, the staff slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. Ben began to crawl after it, triumphant, but as he did he had to get very close to the shadow, and the shadow took the opportunity to grab him by the throat and _squeeze._

Rey scrambled for the staff, but it was so _dark,_ and her hands found nothing…

Ben’s eyes were beginning to pop out of his skull. Horrible rasping noises were pouring from his throat; the shadow whispered something to him, and again it was that horrible scrape of bone against bone…

Rey tried to tune into the Force, but it was somewhere far away, and her hands bled as they pushed and searched the rough stone...

And then, a voice.

“Get away from her!”

The storyteller, bold and fierce, was standing in front of them. His Light was unwavering in the Force, and within it the shadow trembled. “Mercy, please, have mercy,” it begged.

The storyteller grinned. “Do I need to throw you down another tunnel, old man?”

“Please… I am wise… _I can give you power…_ ”

The storyteller rolled his eyes. “Heard that one before,” he said, and then he raised his hand and the shadow disappeared in a dazzling flash of light.

The storyteller rushed forward and gathered Rey, still sobbing, into his arms. “What _was_ that?” she whimpered.

“Just… Something from my past,” he replied. “I still wrestle with myself sometimes, even in the afterlife… Master Windu thinks it’s shameful… But that doesn’t matter. Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Rey lied, shaking. She scanned the room in a blur of tears. “Where’s Ben?”

“Ben? What are you talking about?”

Rey buried her face in his robes and sobbed harder.

The boy was gone.

\--------------

Screaming, soaring pain in his lungs, white-hot knives, digging, clawing at the soft flesh at his throat--

And the shadow whispered, _Exegol._

Ben woke up screaming.

A few of his fellow learners gave him nasty looks and turned over, falling back into sleep. Ben stumbled to the door, wiping at the tears falling down his face. The air still seemed ragged and thin in his throat, as if those horrible pale hands were still pressed tight around him. He coughed, gulping eagerly at the cool night air.

The stars were clear and cold in the sky tonight, spinning in a thousand unknown constellations. Ben looked up at them and thought, _Exegol._ What was it, a planet, a person, a star? Why would the shadow tell him such a thing?

 _Master Luke said the Dark Side would try to tempt us,_ Ben thought, but this didn’t feel like temptation. It hurt quite a lot, really. He remembered Master Luke telling them a story once about how he’d nearly died on the ice planet Hoth. Just on the brink of death, he’d seen the Force ghost of his old master Kenobi whispering _Go to the Degobah system. Find Yoda._ Could this shadow be doing something similar? If it was, then, it was his destiny to go.

And you couldn’t ignore destiny if you were a Skywalker.


	3. The Creation of the Lightsabers

Rey stood at the edge of the cliff, gathering the courage to jump.

Vast leagues of mountains stretched below her, stark dirt wilderness that wavered as the wind snapped its teeth at her back. Her eyes stung; her nails pressed bloody crescents into her skin, and while it was cold, she was determined not to shiver.

Another ledge waited a scant fifteen paces away. A short jump, for a Jedi. A very long fall.

A blue crystal hummed a sweet song between her ledge and the next, the melody of destiny, her own beating heart in the Force. That somehow made it worse.

_ I’m a coward,  _ Rey thought, gritting her teeth.  _ I have to jump. I have to… _ This was her kyber crystal, and it was calling to her. A Jedi rarely found another. She imagined heading back to the Masters empty-handed, trying to explain how  _ hard  _ it had been, and she saw all of their disappointed faces swimming in front of her eyes; Master Yoda, shaking his head, Master Windu, nodding knowingly like he’d known she couldn’t do it, Master Skywalker, her storyteller, realizing he never should have vouched for her because she really was a weak, stupid girl.

Rey closed her eyes, breathing. In. Out. In… She let her anger flow away, let it be replaced by a will of solid iron. When she opened them, she was unafraid. The currents of the Force became all in her mind, smooth, solid, neverending, and Rey found herself remembering something one of the Masters had told her a long time ago:  _ This planet is a fulcrum from which the Force sways, one of many in the galaxy. The current is very strong here. In this place, the Dark Side only lives in the shadows cast by our Light. _

The crystal glittered faintly in the sunlight. Rey let herself be swept away by the current, and registered only dimly that her legs had started to move, and she was running and then she jumped--

Her fingers closed around the beating heart of the crystal, bright and shining above the mountains and the streams sparkling beneath her feet as she flew upwards, her exhilaration pounding in her chest, flying forever within the moment between one breath and the next--

And then her feet hit the cliff at the other side. She broke her fall with a roll and stood, panting. She opened her fingers and looked in wonder at the crystal.

She could make a lightsaber now. A real, actual lightsaber. She let out a girlish shriek of glee. The Masters were going to be so proud…

\------------

Ben stared down at the pit, unblinking.

Darkness descended into still more darkness beneath him. A cold wind sighed from its depths like a death rattle from a blackened throat. He was standing on the very edge of that pit, anchoring himself to the ice beneath him with the Force, but as he concentrated he could feel the Force calling him to the faint speck of light that floated within-- his kyber crystal, his destiny.

The other younglings had left him long ago. The caves of Ilum were vast, Master Luke had told them, and each Jedi had to find their own path within them. The ice planet’s surface had been enveloped in a blizzard at the time, though, so Ben wasn’t sure if he’d quite understood that right, even though Master Luke had been yelling at the top of his lungs.

Ben bent closer over the lip of the pit. He thought he’d heard something…

There it was again. A whisper. Like the one he’d heard in his dream… At the thought, a hand went to his throat, remembering the pressure there. The memory of his recent failures still stung. He’d secretly looked up everything he could about that word  _ Exegol,  _ but he’d found nothing, and he was afraid of telling Master Luke; no doubt he would put an end to whatever grand (and possibly dangerous) adventure that would bring him there. But no matter how hard he searched, he found not a star, not a planet, not even a name.

Ben leaned in farther, listening. His gut was telling him that the whisper held the answers, if he could only hear it. Fear gripped his heart in a vise, but still he made himself lessen the ties of the Force keeping his feet latched firmly onto the ice, a little bit, then more, then more…

Until he was falling into that blackness, and the Dark Side grasped him with cool, soothing hands.

( _ Exegol) _

Stars like white fire appeared before him, wheeling into endless heavens. Ben’s breath hitched in his throat. Planets whirled past him, bits of rock compacting, exploding, and compacting again in cycles of time, beautiful in their endless destruction and creation. He saw some things he recognized, some he did not, until he fell weightless and spinning to a system he’d never seen before. Beneath him, the force hurling him into space lessened, and he floated dreamily above the curve of a planet cast in the shadows of its sun. There was only the slimmest crescent of light like the glint of a knife to reveal that a planet was even there at all. Something was waiting for him there, Ben knew. He could feel it.

_ Exegol,  _ ten thousand voices said in his ear.  _ Come. _

The darkness of space shifted around him, it stretched--

And he was standing on solid ice, and there was no darkness below him at all.

A crystal was shining in front of him. It was purple. Ben reached out and took it gently in his palm.  _ Not red, not blue,  _ he thought, puzzled.  _ A combination of both.  _ The crystal seemed to be saying,  _ Make your choice: Light or Dark? _ Its light was cold in a way that burned through the thick lining of his gloves. “Why do I have to choose?” Ben asked the crystal. “I shouldn’t have to, I’m a Skywalker. All I have to do is follow my destiny. My story’s already written, I don’t have any say in it.”

The crystal grew somehow colder.  _ Destiny is what you make it,  _ it seemed to say. A hot surge of anger erupted in him, and for a second, Ben was tempted to throw it down and crush it beneath his boot; but then Master Skywalker wouldn’t be proud of him, and Ben didn’t know if he could stand that. So he took his peculiar crystal and slipped it in his pocket, hating it.

Well, at least he knew where Exegol was now. With the construction of his lightsaber, his true journey could begin. Besides, as Master Luke always said, the lightsaber was molded by the one who wielded it. And if Ben was going to follow his destiny, he could make his crystal follow it too. Red or Blue, Light or Dark, there was no choice in the Force; there was only the past flowing ever smoothly into the future. Ben was only the smallest molecule carried on by its stream. Part of a grand design. He was proud to think it, but it made him feel very small somehow.

\-------------

“Their connection--”

“Unnatural--”

“An abomination of the Force--”

“ _ Cannot  _ be allowed--”

The Masters’ distress echoed around them in the Force. Rarely had they ever been so at odds about something, but something about this situation was different. The old man held up a hand and waited for disgruntled silence. “True, this kind of connection hasn’t been seen before, but that does  _ not _ mean that it is an abomination,” he said, smiling slightly, though his words had somewhat of an edge. “We never knew all of the mysteries of the Force; perhaps this is one of them.”

Rey looked down at the floor in front of her, cross-legged, her head bowed in silence. She was fiddling with the grip she meant to add to her lightsaber, determinedly trying not to listen. She didn’t know what  _ abomination  _ meant. She knew it wasn’t good, but she swallowed her feelings about that. She couldn’t afford to show any emotion that wasn’t Light in the presence of so many Masters. It would be embarrassing, even though the Force was so turbulent among them right now. Call that hypocritical, but the Masters had pressed into her again and again that she was supposed to grow to be stronger than they had been, more full of Light and power than the strongest Jedi of the old times. That wasn’t bragging, Rey told herself, it was the truth.

“This new power is dangerous,” another Master argued; Rey stopped herself from looking up at them, still not listening, or pretending that she wasn’t listening. She couldn’t quite tell anymore. “We cannot take chances with her, or at least not until she’s older!”

There were murmurs of agreement at this. Rey’s cheeks burned.  _ When she’s older _ seemed to be their answer for everything. The storyteller didn’t even bother to disagree this time; when Rey snuck a glance she saw him glaring silently at the majority, arms crossed. At least he knew when he was outgunned.

_ When she’s older,  _ all agreed (except the storyteller).  _ For now, little Rey, you must resist the temptation to rekindle the connection.  _ Rey wanted to scream. She was starting to think that the day when she was old enough to know things would never come.

\-------------

Luke held the crystal in his hands, wondering.

His nephew looked up at him with wide eyes. “I know it’s weird,” he said tentatively, “But it doesn’t mean anything bad, right?”

“No,” Luke murmured. The light caught this crystal in all sorts of unusual ways, making it swirl and shimmer with greens and blues and oranges and reds in the light beneath its purple surface. An endless struggle of the Force held right in his palm. It made him uneasy.

“But nothing’s wrong with it, right?” Ben asked again anxiously.

Luke sighed, then made himself smile. “It’s perfect,” he lied. He ruffled the boy’s hair. “Did you know that one of the strongest Jedi to ever live had a purple lightsaber?”

“Master Windu?”

“Yes. Back in the days of the last Republic, a purple lightsaber was unheard of. But he ended up becoming one of the most powerful Masters to ever sit the Council.” Luke looked down at the crystal again. _P_ _ owerful…  _ That could be good or bad based on which decisions this boy made. He handed it back to his nephew gingerly, as if it were a bomb that was about to go off. The Force hummed a warning in his bones. Something about this wasn’t right. That much he knew.

\--------------

A dream came to Luke one night. He was standing in front of his nephew, and the boy was holding his lightsaber, that purple blade crawling with a thousand thousand shifting colors of good and evil. The plasma crackled like fire, and as Luke watched Ben put a hand onto its surface; he cried out, but the boy had already pulled away. “Ben!” he exclaimed, rushing to him, peeling the tattered remains of his glove away. His palm was black, burned through, and as Luke pushed back the rest of his fingers he noticed something glinting in the sun. His breath caught in his throat. It was a kyber crystal, rippling with the synthetic bloodshine of a Sith. He looked up, and saw that tears were falling from the boy’s eyes, eyes like yellow fire that  _ hated _ . The boy took his lightsaber, now rippled with patterns of red and swung it forward--

But not into his Master.

A youngling shrieked and fell, a clump of scarred flesh still smoking from the blade. Luke looked around and saw that it was only one small body among many, stretching far into the horizon.

“No…” Luke mumbled, but his lips couldn’t seem to form words to describe the horror he’d just seen. “Ben, no…” He reached his hand forward, and there was such conflict in him,  _ such conflict… _

Luke sat up in his tent, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. Without even stopping to think, he grabbed his lightsaber from his belt and ran, though rain lashed against his skin like fingers ripping at flesh, and stopped once he had reached the younglings’ tent.

_ He’s going to kill them,  _ Luke thought. It was the only thought that mattered.  _ Even the children…  _ Luke made himself calm down. This would have to be done quietly. He pushed up the flap of the door, searching wildly through the dark until he found the still sleeping form of Ben. He gathered the boy gently in his arms, then, and his heart broke as he saw how childlike the boy was, how innocent the lie. He carried the boy outside and walked a long ways away until he was sure the other children would be spared this sight, and his heart twisted in his chest.

_ He’s just a boy,  _ Luke screamed to the Force.  _ I can’t kill him! _

The Force responded with flashes of small bodies, charred and smoking, screaming  _ Master Luke, we trusted you… _

Without thinking, without stopping, he drew his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it.

And Ben’s eyes opened wide.

\--------------

Green plasma burned stars into his eyes. Ben looked up and realized that he was looking at his teacher, and within his eyes was the grim determination of certain Death…  _ Why?  _ Ben thought blankly. He had loved this man, trusted him.  _ Why why why? _ The Force made him roll away onto his feet, just as the shock started to wear thin.

“Master…” Ben breathed. “What are you doing?”

Luke was babbling. “The Jedi… Every single one of them…” And he shook his head and  _ lunged. _

Ben easily sidestepped the blow. Master Luke was trying to kill him.  _ Master Luke was trying to kill him.  _ It didn’t seem like it was even happening, but there it was, Ben’s friend, his mentor was disposing of him because he wasn’t  _ worthy.  _ Anger descended on him now, cold and dark and powerful, and Ben used that strength to run as fast as he possibly could in the opposite direction, trying determinedly to ignore the sounds of footsteps behind him, the sounds of his mentor’s thoughts promising him a quick death… Sobs hitched in his throat, but there was no time for that now. All he could do was run and run and run and he stumbled blindly into the hangar and swung himself into one of the ships; his sweaty hands fumbled over the switches and dials, but that colder, darker part of him calmed him and made him remember what to do. As he took off into the stars, he thought  _ Exegol.  _ His destiny awaited him.

\--------------

Luke stared up at the ship as it sailed into the stars, blinking back the rain streaming into his eyes. He should pursue this boy, he knew he should, but he also realized he’d just done a bad thing, an  _ evil  _ thing without stopping to  _ think,  _ and he fell to his knees, sobbing.  _ I was never going to kill him,  _ he told himself.  _ There was conflict within him, he would have killed us all _ … But now the boy was gone, and he would never know. He would never know what kind of Jedi he would become, what kind of man.  _ What am I going to tell Leia?  _ He thought, wiping away at his tears.  _ The Dark Side is within him now. There is no telling what he might do… _

\--------------

Rey reached into the Force, taking deep, slow breaths. Something had just happened, something  _ bad,  _ she could feel it... 

_ Ben,  _ she thought, and extended a hand into the current.  _ Show me. _

When she opened her eyes, she was standing in the cockpit of a ship, and Ben was staring back at her. His clothes were wet and dripping, as if he had just been standing in the rain. His eyes were red. “Go away,” he snarled. “Get away from me.”

Rey raised her hand, offering calm energies in the Force. “Ben, I could feel something terrible… Please tell me what’s going on, I want to help.”

“You can’t help me.” Ben’s hands clenched into the fists. “I don’t want you here.”

Rey recoiled in shock. The Dark Side was coiled within him like poison, rotting him from the inside. “Ben…”

“I SAID, GET AWAY FROM ME!” the boy screamed, and then Rey was pushed into growing blackness, twisting and turning and seeing an absolute  _ nothing _ .

When she opened her eyes, she was sitting in her chambers once again. She trembled. Her first friend, her first real, actual friend had turned to the Dark Side. She put her face in her hands.

The Masters had been right, she thought. She was too young for this.


	4. Exegol

_ Is she alright? _

_ What has happened? _

_ I sense such darkness ahead… _

Whispers of the cosmic Force hummed and intersected at random intervals, not so much transmitting words as the feeling of words. Worry. Fear.

Darkness.

Rey, meditating, could only pick up hints of their communications. Voices fading in and out like holo static, flashes of faces and hints of light.

_ Be with me,  _ she whispered to them.  _ Be with me. _

But still they pulled away.

Rey stood, trying to ignore the growing headache throbbing at the base of her skull. The Masters hadn’t spoken to her since she’d last visited Ben. It had been two weeks since then, and in those two weeks the Masters had left her completely, utterly alone.

She thought about Ben a lot. 

She’d never sensed such anger before. His aura had been completely black in the Force, swirling with anger and fear. No, not anger -- hate.

A memory swam to the surface of Rey’s mind:

_ I hate you,  _ she said, then ran as fast as she could away from the stern man that was her master…

She’d never said anything like that before she’d met Ben, she realized with a shock. And then when she met the Shadow, Ben had been there too.  _ Darkness surrounds him,  _ Rey thought, troubled. Maybe she was better off staying away from him.

She listened to the silence, feeling very alone.

\------------

Ben’s heart jumped in his chest. There it was.

Exegol.

It looked just the same as it had in his vision: a planet sheathed in darkness, made visible only by the thin crescent of light that bent at its edge as if in submission.

Ben held his breath, and began to descend.

Swirling clouds pressed against the cockpit, and all around him lightning flashed in snarls of light. Thunder roared in his ears like blaster fire. His ship began to rumble and shake against the harsh winds and the rain slamming into the glass, and then lightning hit it and Ben watched, panicking, as his ship went into system failure, sparking and blinking warnings into his ears as the planet’s surface grew closer and closer--

And the ship crashed onto solid land with a roar that shook the skies. Ben found himself launched forward in his seat, and thanked the stars above that he’d remembered to strap himself in. The ship lurched to a stop.

Ben sat for a second, listening to his heartbeat hammering in his ears. He forced himself to raise the cockpit window, blinking up at his unfamiliar surroundings.

Down here, the lightning looked almost beautiful. It lit up the sky in regular intervals of white fire, sparkling like random stars beneath the clouds that hung heavy over everything that Ben could see.

He stepped out onto the planet’s surface. Despite the lightning, it wasn’t raining here, which was somewhat of a relief. The surface appeared to be made up of coarse black rock like gravel stretching flat in all directions. Ben could see no trees or plants or signs of life.

There was only the Temple.

How Ben knew it was a Temple, he couldn’t say; it was like someone had told him so in some distant dream that he couldn’t remember. The Temple itself loomed above him, a ziggurat of dark, polished stone lined with pillars and towering statues crumbled beyond recognition. The Dark Side was strong here, Ben thought, almost palpable. Anger and fear and suffering radiated from every stone, and with it, all of the power of the Force.

Ben began to walk. He swallowed his fear. This was his destiny, and he was a Skywalker. He couldn’t cheat destiny…

His footsteps were swallowed by the Temple, his panicked breaths echoing like sobs around him. Everything inside was black, from the soaring columns to the cracked mirror tile beneath his feet. As if he had walked into the twin shadow of the Jedi temples Master Luke had taken them to on their days off-world.

A voice echoed through the darkness:

_ Ben Solo… _

There was an ancient, wheezy chuckle. The ground trembled beneath his feet.

Ben swallowed. “Who are you?” he asked.

_ Come,  _ the voice whispered.  _ Follow… _

And then the way was clear, as if it had been laid out before him by giant flashing signs saying  _ This way! This way! _

Ben found himself walking down one hallway, then another, until finally he found himself standing in a vast room easily large enough to fit a freighter or three within. Ben could sense a presence ahead, a presence so powerful it sucked the light from the world around it; when he tried to search further, he found nothing but a black hole where the being’s soul should have been.

He shivered. That darkness was strong, and sweet, and somehow very comforting…

Yellow eyes flickered in the shadows.  _ My boy…  _ He could sense a chilling smile.  _ You come at last. _

“Come to who?” Ben’s mouth suddenly seemed very dry. “You never told me who you were.”

_ I am the Sith,  _ the thing in the shadows snarled.  _ And you, my apprentice, will join me… _

Ben’s hand fell to his lightsaber.

The yellow eyes landed on it.  _ Your Jedi weapon will not help you here. _

The lightsaber soared from his belt into the blackness. It ignited in the Shadow’s grip, and suddenly Ben could make out its face: rotted, aging, peeled, and its hands, burned black at the tips.

“It’s you,” Ben said, astonished. “I saw you in that vision… Except, you’re  _ real… _ ”

_ Reality is what you make it, my apprentice,  _ that horrible wilting face replied.  _ Wherever the Dark Side exists, so too do I. _

Ben shivered. “Why did you tell me to come here?”

_ It was your destiny. _

“Destiny…” The word tasted sweet on his tongue. The Dark Side curled inside him, whispering its pleasure in his ears. “Yes… My destiny… To destroy the Sith.”

_ To become the Sith. _

“No,” Ben protested, but his voice wavered.

_ You know it to be true. You could become the most powerful Sith to live,  _ the other voice promised.  _ Your Master saw your power, and was afraid. Fear rots within his Jedi Order. It is weak. It must be destroyed, so the Sith can rise anew. _

“My Master…” The Dark was so thick here, it was making it hard to think. Ben’s mind was a tangled jumble of images: the shine of green plasma pressing stars into his eyes, the thoughts promising a quick and painless Death… All horribly, horribly rooted in the Light, in his Master’s desire to do good.

_ Yes,  _ the shadow, the Sith, answered.  _ I am your Master now. There is no escape. It is your destiny. _

_ You can’t fight destiny,  _ Ben thought wildly.  _ You can’t fight destiny… You can’t… _

And yet--

“I am a Skywalker,” he said. The words gave him strength. “I must serve the Light, as my uncle did, and my grandfather before him.”

_ Your grandfather?  _ The Sith snorted.  _ Let me show you your grandfather, my apprentice, and the legacy he has left behind… _

Ben saw flashes, memories that weren’t his:

Fire, red and screaming--

The smell of a lightsaber tearing into flesh--

_ (It seems in your anger, you killed her.) _

_ (You killed my father--) _

_ (No, I AM--) _

_ (They were animals, and I slaughtered them like animals…) _

Ben sunk to his knees, his head spinning, and it was all too much, too fast.

_ (Once more the Sith shall rule the galaxy… And we shall have…) _

_ (...Peace…) _

The Dark Side curled around him, and Ben felt all of the blood and pain and terror and it started to build into a scream--

_ (A helmet lowered onto a face, burned beyond recognition, but Ben could feel…) _

_ (My apprentice, the Sith whispered.) _

_ Grandfather. _

Ben slumped to the floor. Tears streamed down his face. “Why didn’t they tell me?” he said, and his voice was very small. “Why didn’t they say something?”

A hand landed on his shoulder, warm, comforting.  _ This is your legacy, _ the Sith told him kindly.  _ To bring peace and order to the galaxy, the way your grandfather once did. This is how you will honor the name Skywalker. _

Ben stared in horror into nothingness.  _ There is no choice in the Force,  _ he thought,  _ there is only the past flowing ever into the future. There is no choice, only destiny. _ But to join the legacy that his grandfather had left behind… The greatest Empire in a thousand years…

Ben’s heart raced. The thought of having power like that was intoxicating. He could make the galaxy bow to his will, and never again would have to feel the way he did when he looked down the end of his Master’s lightsaber, so alone and confused and afraid…

He turned to look at the shadow of the Sith.

“If it is my destiny,” he decided, “Then so be it.”

He knelt.

\-----------

Rey’s eyes snapped open.

_ Something terrible has happened,  _ she thought. But she wouldn’t reach into the Force, she couldn’t, because she could feel the Dark Side flowing through it and she feared what she might find.

_ Ben,  _ she thought.  _ Come back to me, Ben. _

\------------

“The boy has turned,” the storyteller said, quite sadly.

The old man nodded. “I felt it too.”

“We should talk to her,” the storyteller said. “I bet she would like to know what’s going on.”

“Remember her bond,” the old man reminded him. “Since the boy has fallen, the strength of their connection might make her fall, too…”

“She’s stronger than that.”

“She is strong,” the old man allowed, “But we don’t know the nature of this bond. There’s no way to tell how it will affect her.”

“And if she does turn?”

“Then we will find someone else. Someone stronger.”

“There is no one stronger. I can feel it. I know you can, too.”

The old man sighed. “Then all we can do is hope.”

\-------------

Ben stared up at his new Master. “What do I do now?” he asked. “Do I have to kill the Jedi?”

_ In time, my young apprentice,  _ the Master replied.  _ You shall have your revenge. _

“All of them?”

For a second, Ben thought of Rey, and guilt twisted inside him.

The Sith’s face twisted into a terrible snarl. He didn’t approve of the question.  _ The Light Side makes you hesitate. _

“Yes,” Ben admitted.

_ This shall be corrected in time,  _ the Sith assured him.  _ Give in to your hatred, and your hesitation will be nothing but a memory. _

“Yes,” Ben repeated. “Master.”

\--------------

“She will forget in time,” the stern man said to his companion. “She is young; the young always forget.”

“Not so sure, I am,” Yoda replied. “Disagree, I do. Remember, the young will always.”

“The Dark Side is strong in this boy. Now, when she goes to Exegol, she will fight two Sith, not one.”

“Win, she will. With her, the Force is.”

There was a brief silence while the stern man considered this.

“I must say,” he said slowly, “I am starting to get sick of dealing with Skywalkers.”

“Yet deal with them, you must.”

“Yes.” The stern man frowned. “I must.”


End file.
